All month I have been asking Gavin what he wants to be for Halloween. All month, my question has been returned with a blank stare. I know he knows what Halloween is from TV school so I just assume he doesn’t have a preference.

That was my first mistake. Assumed he doesn’t have a preference? You mean the child that needs juice – “apple-juice, not-orange-juice-but-in-an-orange-cup, no-not-that-orange-cup, the-big-orange-cup, with-a-blue-straw, no-not-THAT-blue-straw-I-want-to-pick-my-own-blue-straw!”

This kid doesn’t lack opinions.

A week before his school Halloween party he tells me he wants to be a dinosaur. I fought the urge to remind him “I-don’t-HAVE-an-effing-dinosaur-costume-I-have-a-hamburger-costume-that-I-bought-with-your-sister’s-strawberry-costume-four-weeks-ago-when-you-said-you-didn’t-care” and instead hoped it would blow over. Cause he forgets things (never).

Two days before the party his nana asked him what he was going to be for Halloween. “A dinosaur.”

F.

After dinner I run out to the pop-up Ricky’s shop down the street. I feel like super mom when the employee tells me they have dinosaur costumes. Even better when they have one in his size-ish (18-24 months isn’t a stretch, he is pretty small for 2.5 anyway)! And it’s 50% off! High on the spoils of being a delinquent mom, I hurry home to show Gavin his dinosaur costume.

He is unimpressed that night.

The next morning he won’t even put it on. He carries the costume in a bag because I force him to. He insists he will not wear it.